


The Lone Wolf

by DancingSnowflakes23



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: AU-story, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Ned dies during the Greyjoy Rebellion, R Plus L Equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingSnowflakes23/pseuds/DancingSnowflakes23
Summary: What if Ned died during the Greyjoy rebellion?A drabble I wrote a long time ago.I thought someone might want to read it.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Renly Baratheon (past), Daenerys Targaryen/Viserys Targaryen (past), Jon Snow & Allyria Dayne, Jon Snow & Benjen Stark, Sansa Stark/Tyrion Lannister ( not romantic)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 69





	1. Jon

**Jon**

Jon knew his world had been irrevocably changed when his Lord Father had perished against the Greyjoys.

Lady Stark had grieved for a handful of days, but a week after the King had brought his father’s bones, Jon had been sent to live with the servants and banished from his lessons with Maester Luwin.

A bastard had no use for a high lord’s education, he had heard Lady Stark tell Maester Luwin, who had protested against her actions, but it had been no use.

Lord Stark’s death had made her only colder towards Jon.

She hated him and wanted him gone and at times he felt almost nervous being in her presence.

Not that he was ever in her presence these days. No, they tasked him with shoveling shit in the stables instead of training with Robb at the practice yard.

Robb didn’t dare to speak to him either, probably out of fear he might anger his grieving mother, but that betrayal hurt him even more than Lady Stark’s actions towards him.

It wasn’t like he didn’t understand her anger. He was a bastard, but he still couldn’t let go of the anger he felt towards Lady Stark.

Sometimes, he wanted to shout at her. Sometimes, he wanted to hurt her even. At times, he even hated Robb.

Yet, he knew these feelings were wrong. Guilt always came like a sharp knife.

…

A year passed like this until Benjen came from the Wall to speak to Lady Stark. He was strangely cold towards her when he saw Jon garbed in servant clothing and treated like a stable boy.

The servants also whispered that there had been many shoutings and complaints.

Jon had felt happy about that. At least, someone had not forgotten him and when Benjen spent the rest of his last two days in his company, Jon had realized that not even Lord Stark had taken such interest in him.

"Please tell me, lad?“ Benjen asked him that night while they were feasting on honeyed chicken and wine Benjen had brought for Jon. His favorite dish. "What are we to do with you?“

Jon shrugged his shoulders.

"I am a bastard.“

"There is also use for bastards,“ Benjen insisted and ruffled his hand through his hair. "What do you want to be? A stable lad?“

"I want to be a knight,“ Jon replied hesitatingly. "A proper knight.“

Benjen nodded his head in understanding and smiled warmly. "A proper knight you shall be, my lad. I promise.“

"But Lady Stark…,“ Jon protested but was promptly cut off.

"Lady Stark will no longer rule the North,“ Benjen replied. "The Lords of the North will form a council and rule until Robb is of age. I am sure I will be able to find a place for you.“

Jon couldn’t believe his ears. "Will I be sent away?“

Benjen nodded his head."I suppose so.“

Jon was glad for it. "I am glad to go. Lady Stark hates me.“

"She does not hate you, lad,“ Benjen assured him and tried to touch his shoulder, but Jon pushed his hand away. "She hates what you represent.“

…

Jon continued to scrub the stables for three more weeks before Jon was told by Maester Luwin that he would be sent for Riverrun.

Jon had nearly vomited out his food when he had heard this. Why would he be sent to Lady Stark’s relatives?

It was a nightmare come true. They would hate him even more than Lady Stark.

"You will be a knight,“ Ser Roderik assured him when he brought him to Riverrun, a castle so unlike Winterfell.

The Riverlands were just as strange. They were green and warm and full of strange people that looked at Northmen like a rabid breed of dogs.

When he arrived at Riverrun, he was not treated any better than a piece of dirt. He was sent to the squires without supper and if Jon was lucky people called him by his name.

The only thing he liked was the training in the yard.

Because was good at it, much better than the other boys. Perhaps it was also the result of Lord Edmure’s training.

Unlike Lady Stark, he didn’t seem to care much that he was a bastard, though it might just be a result of his forgetfulness.

He always confused Jon with another Jon and at times he called him Edric.

Jon didn’t care what Lord Edmure called him, as long as he was about to continue training him. Jon may be a bastard, but perhaps Benjen had been right.

There could be a use for bastards. He could join the Night’s Watch or the King’s guard or become a hedge knight.

He didn’t need Lady Stark for that.

…

Another year passed and by Jon’s eight nameday, Jon had become one of the best boys among the squires. He excelled at swordplay and had learned the lance passably. He didn’t even mind the joust as much anymore.

He was just pleased to escape the curses of the other squires.

Neither the higher-borns nor the lower-borns liked him. The higher born squires despised him for being a bastard and the lower-born boys thought him a bastard who was acting above his station. It was a true pain in the ass.

Not that Jon cared. He had no need for them.

He was better off alone.

Without a pack, that would just desert him as Robb had done.

They could all just die for all he cared.

At times, he even began to believe that.

Yet, even the little amount of happiness he had won, was snatched away a moment later. It was Lord Edmure’s name day when Jon met Lord Hoster Tully for the first time.

He was an elderly lord, who showed a great resemblance to his son, but was much less pleasant in person.

Jon was sure Lord Edmure had forgotten his name again or else he wouldn’t have introduced him to his father, but what was done could not be undone.

"So, you are _the_ bastard,“ the old Lord had simply said, his voice cold and devoid of any kindness, as he had eyed Jon as if he was some wild beast instead of a boy. "You do look a lot like your father.“

The last words had been filled with disgust and for days afterward, Jon been unable to sleep, a strange foreboding filling him.

It happened a day later. Jon had felt it already when he had eaten his porridge, but only when he had started to vomit blood, he had known that he had been poisoned before collapsing on the ground.

Oddly, he didn’t die that day and lived.

Three weeks of fever he had endured and afterward, he felt so weak he could barely walk. Jon felt constantly hungry, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat, so fearfully he was of being poisoned again.

That night a crow came visiting him in his dreams.

It spoke of death and warned Jon.

He woke with a dry mouth and was trembling all over his body as he dressed, sneaked out to the stables to find his horse, and rode off into the night, never looking back.

…

He spent two days in the woods, living off berries and what he could find through the hunt, but eventually, he ventured further along the King’s Road, towards King’s Landing, a place as foreign as the Riverlands.

He thought about offering his services to the King but didn’t go through with it. What use could King Robert have for a mere boy and bastard like him?

Perhaps his foolish dream of knighthood had been nothing more than a stupid delusion.

He spent two more weeks in King’s Landing, watching the ships in the harbor come and go, thinking of boarding one to sail East to join a Company or find his luck as a ship hand.

He was still weak, but the coin he had saved had been enough to feed him back to some strength.

That night, the crown again, visiting him in his dreams. It showed him a castle of pale marble, looming behind the Red Mountains.

It was like a revelation.

Starfall.

He had heard the servant’s whisper about this place. That he had been born there, that his Lord Father had stolen him from the arm’s of his mother and that she had perished by throwing herself into the sea.

It was strange, that this memory only came back to Jon now, as he was sleeping in some dirty tavern in King’s Landing, two pillow girls riding some elderly lord in the bed beside him.

His mother. Could it have been that her name was Lady Ashara?

Well, she was dead, but her family yet lived.

This was the moment he found his way to Starfall.

…

Starfall was as beautiful as he had imagined it. Marble towers kissing the sky, the hot sun kissing his cheeks, and the smell of salt filling his nose.

Jon had used his last coin to buy himself fresh clothing and had asked one of the ladies on the ship to cut his hair to make himself a little more presentable, but he still looked more like a bastard than a young squire.

As expected, he was stopped by a knight in shining armor with a velvet cloak fluttering behind him.

"Who are you?“

"I am Jon Snow,“ Jon introduced himself and lowered his head. "Formerly a squire to Lord Edmure Tully and the natural son of Lord Eddard Stark. I had hoped to meet Lord Dayne.“

"Lord Dayne is not here,“ the man replied gruffly. "But his Lady Sister is…Lady Allyria will meet you if it pleases you.“

Jon was relieved to hear this.

"I would be honored to meet her.“

The man led him into a round solar with beautiful banners and high painted windows that filled the hall patterns of light and color.

The Lady Allyria was nothing but a child, but she was a pretty one, as her sister and maybe Jon’s mother had been.

Her face was a bit longish, but her raven hair was shiny smooth and her dark violet eyes reminded Jon of two amethysts.

Her smile was even warmer as she rose from her seat and embraced him tightly, amused laughter spilling from her lips.

Jon couldn’t say how old she was, but he believed she couldn’t be older than ten.

"I am so glad you found your way here, cousin,“ she said and kissed his cheeks, not wanting to get hold of him. "Oh, how my father hoped you would come.“

Jon was confused. "Cousin? Are you not more likely my aunt?“

Lady Allyria finally let go of him and shook her head. "You don’t know?“

"Know what?“ Jon asked in confusion. "Are you not Lady Ashara’s sister?“

"Certainly,“ the Lady replied and led him along to sit down on the cushioned chair. "That is at least what the world believes, but it is a lie. In truth, I am Lord Eddard’s bastard daughter and my mother…she is very much alive, which makes me your cousin.“

Jon was utterly confused and shook his head in disbelief. "That makes us siblings?“

The girl shook her head and took his hand in hers.

She looked at him with a pitiful look.

"I fear you got it wrong, Jon. I am not your sister. You are my cousin because you are the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen.“

…


	2. Daenerys

**Dany**

Dany felt nothing as she stared at Drogo’s dying body. He was as ugly as the first time she had laid eyes on him. His was a hated face, a face that had brought her nought but pain. He had raped her every night and he had murdered her brother on her poor foolish brother.

He had only wanted a broodmare for his promised son, _the stallion that mounts the world_. For moons, Dany had waited for a way of escape and then she had finally gotten her chance when Drogo had fallen from his horse and had been struck with a terrible fever.

One of the Lhazareen women Dany had saved in a village that had been destroyed by her husband had helped her with poisoning her husband. Two days later, Drogo was still dying, but she knew the time was close, as was her freedom.

Viserys was dead and so were his dreams of kingship. Yet, Dany was still alive and she had three dragon eggs. Soon enough, she would be far away from the Dothraki sea and never look back again. Perhaps she could go to Asshai like Ser Jorah had promised her or perhaps she would simply go back to Braavos and live in her House with the Red Door. These were all dreams, but who said dreams could not become true?

When she noticed Ser Jorah’s presence she knew she had to leave. Her handmaids were probably already waiting for her in the company of the maegi and the other handful of slaves she had promised to free.

They would flee while her husband’s bloodriders were tearing each other apart. It was the best way.

"We must leave, Princess,“ Ser Jorah said and helped her stand. Her babe would be born soon and it was hard for her stand or ride. Yet, she had no other choice. „We must be gone before sunset.“

Dany nodded her head and soon enough they riding away like common criminals. Ser Jorah had taken care to pack their horses with bundles of provisions and plenty of water, including her dragon eggs.

Dany was riding her silver, who seemed to fly across the wide plains like the wind. It felt as if she knew that the enemy was close.

The sun was rising in the east when they made settled down to rest. They broke their fast upon dried horseflesh and plain water.

Then, they slept for a handful of hours before they were off again. Dany felt exhausted after only an hour of riding.

"We must rest more,“ Doreah insisted to Ser Jorah. "Or the Princess might give birth out on the road.“

Dany shook her head. "I am well. Let us move on.“

…

It was the maegi and Ser Jorah who were leading them through this barren landscape of dying trees and swaying grass. Dany felt lost whenever she turned her head, but the maegi insisted she knew the way.

Nearly a week after they had left her dying husband, they finally reached a settlement. It was a trading post consisting of a patch of trees and a well. The men dwelling there turned out to be merchants from Qarth and offered them fruits and wine in exchange for dried horsemeat and some of the fine garments Dany had received as a wedding gift.

The men told them stories about their city, praising it as a place of culture and the finest slaves one could find. Dany had told them that she would like to see their city, but the slaves were not something that interested her. She had just fled her own enslavement.

In turn, they had asked her stories about her as well. Dany had been hesitant to reveal more about her, especially when she had spotted the group of sellswords that were travelling with this caravan. Viserys had been a fool, but he had always warned her of sellswords.

These didn’t even sound as if they were from the Free Cities. The leader spoke in a heavy-lidded accent, that hinted at a Westerosi ancestry and the man that was with him didn’t look anywhere more trustworthy.

They might just capture her and deliver her to the usurper.

"I am not sure it is a good idea we travel with these men,“ Ser Jorah said after they had retired to her tent. Dany needed to rest. "We should go to Asshai instead. The usurper’s words would never reach us there.“

"Qarth is closer,“ Dany insisted. "And my child will be born soon. I also promised Mirri that I would allow her to leave once we are safe. I owe her my freedom.“

Ser Jorah didn’t look as if he agreed but didn’t speak out against her command.

"As you wish, princess.“

They continued their travel on the following day, but much to Dany’s displeasure the sellswords didn’t leave on the next travelling post.

As it turned out, they were also travelling to Qarth.

"You do look like half a Dothraki, if you don’t mind me saying so,“ one of the sellswords remarked in passing. He was the young man from Westerosi, though his tanned skin told her that he must have dwelled for a long time in Essos. His Bastard Valyrian was also passable. "Are you escaped slaves?“

"That is none of your business,“ she replied and tried to ignore the young man dressed in simple armor. His face was long and plain and framed by brownish hair. There was a scar showing on his right cheek, but his eyes were pretty enough, black like onyx. He also looked well-trained. „We do not know each other.“

"My name is Jon,“ he replied promptly. "Ser Jon…and you are? It’s that easy…“

"Ser Jon?“ Dany asked. "Then I am right. You are from Westeros.“

"There are many sellswords who hail from there,“ Jon replied. "Rolly over there as well and many other members of the Golden Company.“

Even Ser Jorah turned his head at the name of the Golden Company.

"You serve the Golden Company?“

"I do,“ the young man replied. "We are here on a very special mission.“

Dany couldn’t help but grimace. The last time she had met the Golden Company she had been a girl. Viserys had tried to gain their allegiance and they had mocked him. Afterward, he had wept like a babe in her arms.

"Leave us!“ she snapped at him. "I have no need of your help.“

"Princess,“ Ser Jorah warned. „Perhaps..,“ was about to continue, but Dany’s gasp of pain made them all turn their heads.

Dany felt another stab of pain as she stumbled from her horse.

The young woman, who had been travelling with the sellswords was quickly at her side. Even faster than her sellswords.

"We must stop at once,“ she shouted at the merchants from Qarth. "The lady’s babe is coming.“

The men protested, but the leader of the sellsword’s, this Ser Jon, forced them to stay.

Dany didn’t have much time to think about all of this, for her babe was about to be born.

…

Dany felt as if she was burning alive. She could not keep count of the hours that had passed by the time she was losing her wits.

The pain was just terrible and no encouragement or sip of water could end her suffering.

The girl that had travelled with the sellswords was the only chance for her to see her birth born, especially after Mirri had abandoned her.

"You must breathe and then push,“ the lady told her, her tanned face framed by dishevelled hair. „Now!“

Dany screamed and pushed as hard as she could.

"And now breathe,“ the girl instructed her again. Dany noticed Doreah’s presence. Irri was also there, holding a pot of water and Jhiqui was watching her from the distance. „Slowly at first and then push…Now!“

Again, Dany pushed, the pain almost unbearable.

"Push!“ the girl instructed her again. „And once more! I can see the head!“

Dany did it again and this time, it felt as if a heavy burden left her, something wet and screaming sliddering from between her legs.

"I have it!“ the girl announced. „The babe! I have it!“

 _Give it to me_ , she asked and tried to sit up straight, but a bout of dizziness washed over her.

The world started to blur in front of her.

Visions playing in front of her eyes like a strange mummery. She saw Viserys, his golden crown running down his face like a river. She heard his screams and then he disappeared into nothingness and was exchanged with the face of a young man that looked much like Viserys, but more beautiful.

"The dragon has three heads,“ he whispered to her. "The dragon has three heads.“

Then, they vanquished like the morning mist.

Dany woke to the sound of a crying babe. When she looked up she found it being cradled in Irri’s arms.

It’s silver hair, lilac eyes and pale skin told her what she had hoped for with all her heart.

It was not Drogo’s cursed seed that had created this babe. It was Viserys‘ babe, the one they had made after he had sold her to Drogo.

She should have refused him, but he had been strangely kind to her that night. Like he had been when they were children and he had even apologized to her.

He had realized even back then that it had been foolish to trust the magister.

"It’s a girl,“ the girl declared and handed her the babe. "She is healthy.“

Dany couldn’t help but laugh as allowed her daughter to suckle on her breast. The Dosh Khaleen were a bunch of fools.

Drogo had been wrong.

And she was glad for it.

Now, would have never to think of him again.

Viserys’s memory felt much the same now, but there was at least a bit of happiness in their past. Her brother had not been completely bad. He had been broken by his experiences.

She felt only pity for him.

"I will call her Rhaenys,“ Dany announced then. "For my poor niece that was murdered by the usurper dogs.“

"A good name,“ the girl replied and smiled at Ser Jon, who had entered the tent in the company of Ser Jorah. "Princess Daenerys.“

Dany looked at the girl. „You know me?“

"We had our suspicions,“ Ser Jon replied and knelt beside her. "Now we have the confirmation we have been seeking. We have finally found you.“

Dany was started by their revelation. "Found me?“

„Aye,“ the young girl replied and grinned. She dipped her head a little. "I am Lady Allyria Dayne and this is Ser Jon. We came all the way to find you, Princess Daenerys.“

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the GoT outline, Dany actually hated Drogo and murdered him for killing Viserys. I personally would have preferred that over the yuck romance that was in the books and makes A Game of Thrones my least favorite book after Feast, but then George is a bit too obsessed with his beauty and beast stuff.
> 
> But then I am glad he never went for the Arya x Jon x Tyrion love triangle stuff. However, Arya actually going to the Wall would have been far more interesting than her boring storyline with the Faceless Men that seems to go nowhere...
> 
> Not sure if I will have Jon hook up with Dany in this, because Aegon actually send him to find her and Jon is loyal to his brother and they have known each other for years in this story. Maybe Jon could hook up with Allyria and Jon and Dany could just be friends?
> 
> Or I could go for Jon x Arya, since he has been aware for years that she is not his sister and he didn't really spend much of his youth in Winterfell. Not to mention the characters in this story are older than their book counterparts.
> 
> Dany is like eighteen here and Jon is like nine-teen and Aegon is like twenty. Not sure. Depends if I write another part.


	3. Sansa

**Sansa**

They hadn't been married an hour and it was already straining his nerves. Beside her, he felt even smaller than usual, a girl so young shouldn't have been so tall.

When Sansa did not respond to one of his attempts to speak to her, he briefly wished her that she had wed Joffrey, not the ugly little gnome.

Why did she act like that? Had he ever hit, humiliated, betrayed her?

No, he had always been kind to her, tried to protect her from the king's mad fits.

And so she thanked it. Tyrion's mood worsened even more. It wasn't that he wanted this marriage, or even thought of Lady Sansa in that direction! She was pretty, no doubt, but far too young for his liking. He must have been ten years older than her.

He was glad when they reached the small chamber, not really worthy of a banquet.

The few guests that were present did impress anyone. There was his father Tywin Lannister sitting next to the queen herself.

The only family member whom Tyrion might have invited if he had been responsible for the invitations was not there: Jaime. The only one in the family who hadn't accused Tyrion of his mother's death from the moment of his birth.

The cups were raised and Tyrion drank it in long gulps. He would need a lot more wine if he was to get through this day.

The expression of his young wife had darkened even further at the sight of the few invited guests.

_How far this must be from her dream of a wedding!_

Starting with him, the ugliest of all the ugly husbands imaginable.

"My lady," Tyrion said and leaned over to her. "I can assure you, this wasn't my idea."

The look she gave him was so composed and cool as if she wanted to ask what that mattered.

Aside from being a fairly small setting for a Lannister's wedding to a Stark's daughter, the banquet was like any other celebratory meal Tyrion had seen.

Even so, Tyrion had a different idea about having fun than the people present.

A half-naked Shae on her lap, lots of wine by her hand, and no disapproving father at the next table.

The thought of Shae angered him even more.

She was a whore, one who made everyone look good, or whoever paid the most for it.

It had been for a while, and now it wasn't anymore.

"I am fool," he muttered.

Lady Sansa gave him a questioning look.

He lifted his cup.

She hesitated and finally just sipped her wine.

He had to give her that, she really didn't make a face when she looked at him.

Quite the good maiden who always does her duty.

The pleasant would be over pretty soon. The crowd of guests was so handpicked that there was no one among them to start shouting for bed.

The few ladies present didn't look enthusiastic about undressing Tyrion, so he probably didn't have to worry about his way to the bedchamber.

His father seemed to agree and sent everyone away.

Tyrion pulled on Sansa’s arm and prodded her to follow after him.

He was glad to leave this feast behind him, but then his father caught up with him.

„No playing around, Tyrion. I expect this marriage to be consummated on the spot. If it is not done by the morrow I will give her to Joffrey. It won’t matter as long as the child has Lannister blood.“

Tyrion gritted his teeth. He knew this was no empty threat.

Sansa stared at him with a pale face. Her hair was undone already. When she had done it, Tyrion couldn’t say.

Perhaps that was a result of too much wine.

"Well, the feast is over," he assured her.

She nodded her head. She still hadn't said a word.

That bothered Tyrion immensely, but at the same time he could not look away from her bare breasts and his self-control reeled off his father's words over and over again.

„You heard my father,“ he told her. It reminded him of a different time when he had done something similar. Tysha’s pale face swam before him everytime he thought of that day. She had been another whore. She had betrayed him. All women always betrayed and looked at him with disgust. This girl was not different. Perhaps that was Tyrion’s fate. „It must be done.“

Sansa swallowed hard and said nothing.

...

The bed ceremony had been a nightmare for Sansa.

Her mother had prepared her for marriage, as well as a mother did. Lady. Catelyn had told her daughter about the duties of a wife and about her own wedding to Eddard Stark.

Sansa knew that her mother hadn't really expected to wed Lord Eddard. She had been engaged to Brandon Stark, the older brother who died in the rebellion.

Her wedding came as a surprise too. However, there was a big difference between their father and Lord Tyrion.

She was still lying on the bed, deep in horror. She hadn't noticed that the men were long gone and that Tyrion was the only one left.

"Sansa." She was given a cup of wine.

Someone helped her sit up.

"More wine?" Someone asked and she lifted the mug in agreement.

She recognized Lord Tyrion ahead of her.

She would be a dutiful and obedient wife to him, and as a husband, he could touch her wherever he wanted.

His eyes slid over her face, but she didn't know what he was looking for.

"Is something wrong, my lord?“ she asked.

She knew what was expected of her. So far she had always thought of it as a pretty disgusting and disgusting thing, even if she knew that some people had taken quite a liking to it, it was mostly the men who had often been seen with whores.

She struggled to get her eyes off the floor, but eventually, she forced herself to raise her head and look at Lord Tyrion.

He was just as ugly as ever, a misshapen dwarf, like in the stories about him at court. Not even his eyes were the same. She preferred to concentrate on the left, which was green because the other looked black as night and unfathomable on her.

But Tyrion stayed next to her and her husband no matter what she wanted. By then, she emptied another cup of wine.

"Sansa, I don't want to hurt you."

She looked at him questioningly.

“It's not very… comfortable for a woman the first time. I don't know exactly.“

“Would you like some more wine?

„Just lie down“, she remembered her mother's words. The wedding night was the man's task, not the woman's. All she had to do was lie down, trust Lord Tyrion, grit her teeth to prepare for the unpleasant and maybe a little bit of pain, and then she was over with.

Sansa emptied two more wine cups until she was ready. Tyrion watched her do this without even drinking, which was strange enough. Otherwise, Sansa saw her husband almost exclusively drunk and he had never spurned alcohol. Maybe he was just as scared as she was since he had the active part to do.

She felt drowsy as she did Tyrion's request and sat back. The bed was bigger than the one in her old room, but there she had only been a prisoner and not a Lannister's wife.

She ventured a look at the man she would have to spend the rest of her life with:

She recalled details as Tyrion clumsily climbed onto the bed beside her.

She panicked when she thought about the now when she saw the naked Tyrion. Clothes flattered him, even if she had never thought so

before. He was hairy in a way that would not have been thought possible with such a short man, and that between his legs was the ugliest thing Sansa could imagine.

She had never thought of the sex of a man and found it aesthetic, the knights of her dreams sank down on the sheets next to her, dressed in the finest silk, and recited poems as an expression of their deep and pure love.

It had been all a lie.

Later, much later, when the pain had subsided and she heard Tyrion's deep breaths, she fell into a restless sleep in which she tormented the pictures of her naked husband. The erect tail, the frizzy hair, the blood on the bed.

It was still dark outside when woke screaming.

Her heart pounded, she pressed the covers against her. Tyrion slept and did not hear her.

A sudden bout of sickness washed over her then, before she emptied her feast upon the floor.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story the war of the five kings did happen differently: Sansa got married to Joff (I think Robert would have always wanted that, but Joff never consummated the marriage due to being unable to do so) and Arya was already married to Renly when Stannis basically revealed the whole incest stuff to the realm. Cat was of course horrified about Joff being married to Sansa and supported Renly since he had the support of the Storm Lands while Stannis had little support. Renly also promised Dorne he head of the Mountain. Stannis basically still did the shadow baby stuff and killed Renly. Since they needed the Tyrells from joining with a potential Targ pretender, they annulled the marriage of Joff and Sansa and had her married to Tyrion. Robb this story is married to the Frey girl (Walder Frey demanded the marriage at sword point) and has been declared a traitor by Joff, who is betrothed to Marge. That's the current state of the realm. I don't follow the book outline completely.


End file.
